Out of Sight
by DinkyJo
Summary: If you can’t remember dying – did you?
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Out of Sight"

Authors: DinkyJo; [a synthesis of Dinkydow and JoleneB

Category: Prequel for "Out Of Mind", action/adventure, drama

Pairings: some Jack/Sam but very UST

Content Level: 18+

Season: Season 2

Spoilers: "1969"

Warnings: Death of major characters, but with a sarcophagus handy, it's not permanent.

Summary: If you can't remember dying – did you?

Disclaimer: We don't own them, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. We won't make any money out of this venture and will put the characters back the way we found them when we're finished with them . . .mostly.

Author's Notes: Dinky: I noticed that very little was said about what happened after SG-1 gated to a planet that was ruled by an "unknown Goa'uld". This is our version of the prequel for "Out Of Mind".

JoleneB: I'm not one that's into deathfic, but who can pass up writing one? Especially one equipped with a 'get out of death free card?'

**Out of Sight  
by DinkyJo**

**Chapter One**

"But you look like a hippie, Daniel," Jack whined in a nasal tone, his lips curved in a smirk that bordered on the insolent as two of his fingers scissored the air with wicked intent. "I'll just give it a trim, honest." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, as if that in itself would bring Daniel to trust him with his locks.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Jack," Daniel replied as his blue eyes searched his friend's face for the punch line he just knew had to be there. Trouble was it was probably a punch line that would leave him looking like an idiot, or Paul Bunyan. "I just happen to like my hair this way."

'_And when it comes right down to it, I may trust you with my life, but not my hair, Jack,'_ Daniel added to himself. '_Besides I heard that the nurses in the Infirmary think it makes me look cute. And there was this one raven-haired lieutenant . . .'_

"What's the matter? You afraid I'll make you look like a jarhead?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. I am," Daniel muttered half to himself as he folded his arms across his chest. If he let Jack have his way, he would have only fuzz on his head and be dressed like a logger in red plaid.

"Ack. I'm wounded, wounded I say," Jack clapped his hand over his heart dramatically.

'_Trust Jack to hear whatever I don't want him to hear, and totally ignore me when I want him to listen,'_ Daniel rolled his eyes and sauntered off to the kitchen in search of more Hawaiian-style pizza in the hopes that Jack might be distracted from his latest fixation. With luck, he just might escape with his hair intact. He'd thought a team night at the colonel's house would be a good idea, but now he was having second thoughts.

Their latest adventure had involved being sent backward in time to the year 1969. Apparently their little jaunt had revived memories of a wilder time and place for Jack. Once clad in faded blue jeans and a second-hand black leather jacket, his military persona had seemed to melt away, leaving a man Daniel hardly recognized. Though the man he knew as his team commander had shown himself briefly when the subject of Vietnam and running off to Canada to avoid the draft had come up.

As for him, he had little memory of that year since he'd been only four. His main memories involved toddling with a tot-sized shovel in hand, digging in the sands of Egypt. Even then he'd been following in his parent's footsteps while with them on an archeological dig. All in all, those had been happy times for him, ones he treasured all the more after his parents' tragic deaths.

His pizza located, he picked it up in his fingers and folded it as he took a bite, the mozzarella cheese stretched out into a long string before he lipped it off. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed that Jack appeared to be deep in conversation with Sam.

Teal'c seemed oblivious to whatever the colonel was cooking up this time, immersed in a Star Trek episode. Daniel shook his head as he tried to visualize Teal'c emulating Captain Kirk, or even Spock. Come to think of it, they did have the eyebrow thing in common, he thought with chagrin. Not that he'd watched it as a kid, but he had watched a couple of episodes at Teal'c's insistence – purely for the cultural insights of course.

Jack's long fingers curled protectively around the neck of his Guinness as he gesticulated in his direction.

"And I don't trust Sam either," Daniel called out.

She responded by shaking her head firmly. "Leave me out of this, sir. If he wants his hair long, let him. But I'll admit he looked pretty good with his hair slicked back."

"See? What did I tell ya?" Jack looked triumphant and raised his Guinness one-handed to his lips for a sip.

Daniel, having quit the kitchen, smirked at his friends around his mouthful of pizza as he joined them. Swallowing allowed him to answer that challenge.

"As you are well aware, I was in disguise, Jack. And besides, I'd sooner let Teal'c cut my hair than either of you."

"I can guess why," O'Neill began, "Since Teal'c doesn't know how to cut hair. I'd say that's a safe bet."

Before Daniel could think up and use a smart reply, Teal'c added his opinion from the couch.

"I would be honored to cut your hair, Daniel Jackson."

"You would?" Cut in Jack, who sounded astonished.

"You know how?" was Sam Carter's mystified declaration.

Teal'c stood, clicked off the TV and DVD player and placed the remote control in its accustomed location on the coffee table before joining his companions.

"O'Neill, do you have scissors?" He asked as he stood before their dumbfounded faces.

"Now?" Daniel blurted, who was getting the sinking feeling that he was going to regret this entire night. But at the moment, he was trapped, with no way to gracefully refuse.

"I do not believe any of us are scheduled to be elsewhere," answered the seemingly unperturbed but unusually tenacious Teal'c.

Jack had left the room at a near run when asked for scissors, he returned from the direction of his bathroom, a small box, and a bath towel in his hands and a wide grin on his face. A glare from Daniel caused him to immediately wipe the near smirk off of his face. But Carter distracted him by snatching up the towel and towing Daniel into the kitchen to sit him down on one of the chairs there.

"Now you're talking," Jack said with an approving smile. "It'll be much easier to clean up the clippings on the linoleum floor." He paused dramatically. "After the deed is done." He grinned broadly and Daniel expected him to break into maniacal laughter, complete with madly rubbing his hands together at any moment. He didn't but he probably was thinking it, Daniel could tell.

"Thank you, sir. It comes from having a brother and a dad in the military," replied Carter. "Mom used to cut their hair herself in the kitchen."

Daniel knew he'd lost control of the whole situation as he found himself under Teal'c's appraising eyes. He felt like a four-year old, back when his mother would cut his hair in camp while on the many digs he'd spent his all too few years with his parents. That thought alone kept him from protesting, though he so wanted to re-experience the bitter sweetness of familiarity.

"Not too short if you please," he asked of his alien friend. _'Please don't let me regret this,' _he added in his thoughts.

"As you wish."

In matters involving danger, Daniel trusted Teal'c, but he wasn't too sure that the wonderful memories that this had brought back would be entirely worth it over the time that it might take to re-grow his hair if the Jaffa was pulling his leg.

"Teal'c," he started as clippings fell to his towel-covered chest, "How do you know how to cut hair?" Then he noticed the wads of hair that were accumulating on his chest and the floor around him and his enthusiasm diminished markedly.

"Not all Jaffa are warriors, required to be hairless. And all were children before even that. Hair cutting is what would be known here as a male bonding experience," the big man solemnly replied.

"No barbers then?" Jack interjected, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"No, it would be an insult to accept or offer monetary compensation for such an honor."

"Teal'c this is fascinating, you've never mentioned this before," interjected Daniel in an excited voice.

"You have never asked," Teal'c replied holding up a hand mirror that O'Neill had gotten on a second run towards the more private areas of his home.

Daniel peered into the mirror, his hands going to his head. He had to confirm what he saw with touch. _'I should have let Jack cut it.'_

"Umm," he paused, struggling to put his thoughts into words without insulting his friend. "This is how they wear their hair on Chulak?"

"One of many styles, but it is the most common. And I have seen it here on Earth also."

"Here? Where?" Sam asked.

"On the statues accredited to the Greek Empire," answered Teal'c. Warming to the topic he offered: "There are many similarities between the ancient Greeks and Chulak."

"We'll have to explore those one day," Daniel stated, only to switch topics. "Jack, any pizza left?"

"Sure, unless you ate it all already, Mr. Greek God," Jack commented with undisguised glee as his fingers hung quotes around the phrase.

Daniel brushed his hair with one hand and winced when he encountered only air. After having his hair the same length for so many years, he realized with a pang that his new style would take some getting used to. _'Maybe it doesn't really look so bad,'_ he thought hopefully. _'Yeah, once I've gotten used to it, it won't be so bad.'_

"On second thought, maybe I should just call it a night," his mind was on the acute absence of hair against his neck and ears. "Don't we have a briefing in the morning?"

"That we do," Jack nodded. "At oh-eight thirty."

"I'd better be going too, sir," Carter called from the kitchen. "I wanted to look over the UAV readings from that planet. At first glance, some of them looked like there might be . . ."

Jack covered his ears with his hands. "Ack Carter. It's my home. A strictly no-techno-babble zone."

Sam closed her mouth with an audible snap and looked hurt. "Sir?"

Jack's face softened as he seemed to realize he might have hurt her feelings. "You didn't look at them right away?" Jack's eyebrows raised in a question, though Daniel suspected the man was just giving her a hard time. "I'm shocked that you left it this long."

"Sorry, sir. But you were insistent about this team night, and I thought with everything else that had happened, that this was more important."

"Relax, Carter. I was only kidding. It did you good to get out of the mountain and do something fun for a change. Am I right?"

She frowned, "Yes, sir. It did. I wouldn't have missed seeing . . . Star Trek for the world."

Teal'c raised one eyebrow. "I do not understand. Did you not view this as a child?"

"Um, no, Teal'c. I didn't watch much TV. I was too involved with . . . other things."

"See? I'll bet even as a kid you were an egghead." He paused when Sam looked hurt. "And I mean that in the best possible way."

"Whatever you say, sir."

"Well, on that note, I guess I'll leave. . . before things get any worse." Daniel raised his hand to rub his bare neck and then lowered it with an air of self-conscious embarrassment when he noticed Teal'c watching him from the living room.

"You are not pleased with your hair cut Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel's eyes roamed the room frantically as he searched for an easy out. Finding none, he sighed. "Um, yeah, it's just that I'm not used to having such short hair."

Jack looked doubtful and mouthed the word, "Liar" well out of view of the Jaffa.

"You can ride back to the SGC with me, Teal'c," Sam offered. "I'll want to get an early start on the findings from the UAV."

"Of course you do," Jack shrugged and for a moment, Daniel could have sworn the man looked worried as he waved them toward the door. "See ya tomorrow morning then."

As he left, he looked back. The look of concern was gone, replaced with a gigantic yawn, leaving Daniel to wonder if he had only imagined it.

tbc . . .


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two **

Colonel Jack O'Neill poured himself a cup of coffee while he awaited the arrival of the rest of his team and General Hammond. Through the window, he saw the general hang up the phone and from the sour expression on his face, he wasn't happy about something.

Jack winced. From his long experience in the Air Force he'd learned one thing was true. When your general ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. And since he was next in line, rank-wise, whatever unhappiness that caused Hammond's face to pucker up like he'd bit into a lemon was bound to darken his day in the not-too-distant future.

Steam curled up from his open cup as he gingerly sat at the table. Once there, he eyed the oily dark surface of his beverage. Spying something suspicious, he cautiously dipped one forefinger into the cup to capture whatever the heck it was. With a practiced flick of that same finger, minute droplets of coffee sprinkled the tabletop and floor.

"Are you finished, Jack?" Hammond's soft Texas drawl came out of nowhere.

"Sir?" Jack straightened from his half slouch at the implied reprimand from his commander.

Hammond said nothing, just stood there looking at the liquid dotting the surface of the otherwise spotless and shiny tabletop with a half-frown on his face.

"Oh," Jack swiped at the most noticeable drops with one hand. "That. Sorry, sir."

The general settled into his chair at the head of the table and sighed as if the weight of the world rested square on his shoulders. "It may seem small in the scheme of things, but when the top brass at the Pentagon are watching every move we make totaling up the cost of it to boot . . ."

"Sorry, sir. It won't happen again." He paused for a moment and considered the liquid in his cup. "The phone call?"

"Yes, it seems the congressional oversight committee has complained about the cost of the program and the fact that we haven't brought anything back that will off-set the expense."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Kinsey at it again, sir?"

"That would be my guess."

Jack scrubbed his face with both hands, "What is it with that guy? Saving the planet isn't good enough for them?"

"That sort of thing only goes so far. You know that, Jack."

"Yeah, I do. It doesn't mean I have to like it though, sir."

"You ain't just whistling Dixie," Hammond chuckled. "So where is the rest of your team? Don't you have a briefing this morning?"

"I'm surprised they aren't already here, sir." Jack glanced around and then checked his watch. "Carter was all 'a twitter' about something the UAV might have seen when she sent it out on recon the other day."

"Yes, sir. And I was right. There was something that all of you need to see," Carter exclaimed with excitement as she walked into the room, her arms full of folders and paperwork.

As she laid down the folders next to the colonel's chair, she turned her head and mouthed, "A twitter, sir?"

Jack grinned and waggled his eyebrows in response. In the meantime, Daniel and Teal'c arrived and sat across the table from Jack. Daniel was conspicuous for the olive drab scarf he had wrapped around his head, something seen in the field, but never here.

"Got a head cold, Daniel?"

"What?" He pushed his glasses back up his nose with one finger and looked around the room. "Oh, that. No, I'm feeling fine. Why?"

"It's just that you don't usually wear headgear indoors," Jack smirked.

XOX

Captain Samantha Carter took her time setting up her presentation. Though the colonel was giving her a hard time, she realized he respected her intelligence and trusted her judgment. Their relationship had come a long way since their first rocky meeting when she'd challenged him to arm wrestle. The memory always brought back a repeated fantasy of future events if she had succeeded in her coercion. She smiled at the thought of 'that' ever happening on the conference room table.

Though he didn't know it yet, he was going to la-ove what she was about to tell them, for according to her findings, their next mission would give them an opportunity to satisfy even the Oversight Committee. Her recent assignment in the Pentagon, plus growing up with a high-ranking officer for a father had given her an early education in how to accommodate the top brass all the while getting your job done the best way you could.

Added to the recordings from the UAV she'd sent out to recon the planet yesterday, she could add some intel her Dad had let slip. Yes, the colonel would be all 'a twitter' himself soon. That idea gave her some rather vivid flashes of fantasy to add to her collection, so she returned to her task to distract herself for the titillation that a certain colonel could provide in the privacy of her thoughts.

Once she cued up the tape in the VCR, she stood, awaiting General Hammond's signal to begin, who luckily was none the wiser that she had taken a short romp in fantasyland. As was typical of him, Daniel picked up his mission file and began to peruse it, his eyebrows rose as he read something interesting.

"Captain Carter? The floor's all yours." Hammond nodded and settled back to watch the television screen as she punched the remote.

"Yesterday, I sent a UAV to recon the planet designated as PBR-549," she paused and looked at her audience.

"Saa-loote," the colonel raised one finger to his brow and smirked.

"Do you have something to say, Colonel?" Hammond didn't look amused.

"What?" He looked innocent. "I'm surprised no one else had heard of that particular planet, sir. From what I remember its inhabitants have an insane urge to dress up like hillbillies and lay around the shanty all day drinking corn liquor."

"Are you saying there's something wrong with the country lif estyle?" Hammond's eyes narrowed and Sam smothered a grin with one hand. "Bear in mind that I hail from the lone-star state of Texas and was raised in the country," he paused for a beat, "and am damned proud of it."

The colonel's eyes widened as he seemed to realize that he'd put his foot in it . . . again. "Oh no, sir. Love the country. Some of my best friends are from the country. As a matter of fact, my cabin is in the country . . ." his last words were mumbled as he became extremely interested in the contents of his mission folder.

"You were saying, Captain?"

Carter smoothly returned to her presentation, happy in the thought that this amusing incident would provide her with a little ammunition to tease the colonel with.

"I think you'll all find this very interesting, sir. Watch as the camera pans over this particular valley about five klicks from the gate." She froze the video and then outlined the area with her finger. "When I did a spectral analysis of this area, I discovered it to contain an unusual combination of naquadah as well as iron alloys. This combination does not usually occur naturally."

"Wait a minute, this is very interesting," Daniel stood and walked over to the screen and adjusted his glasses. "Could you magnify this for me?"

"I'm one step ahead of you, Daniel. I magnified this to the fiftieth power." She clicked the remote and had everyone's undivided attention.

"A Goa'uld mothership appears to have crash-landed on this planet some time ago," Teal'c spoke with the calm authority of someone who had no doubts of his conclusion.

Sam nodded and smiled with triumph. "This fits with some intel my Dad let slip the last time we spoke. A rumor reached the Tok'ra about a mothership that disappeared in this area of space and no one seemed to know what had happened to it."

A mothership complete with big honkin' space guns?" Jack looked both elated and worried when he turned to Hammond. "That would be almost too good to be true. And it's been my experience that when that happens, there's usually a catch."

"But this would be the find of the century," the still standing Daniel appeared to be too excited to sit and waved his arms with enthusiasm. "Think of all we could learn from their onboard computers, not to mention the writings themselves."

"But if the Tok'ra knows about this, won't the other Goa'uld know about it too? Or at least be looking for it?" General Hammond also appeared to be having second thoughts about the opportunity that had just been handed to them.

"Did your aerial survey pick up any signs of other Goa'uld in the area, Carter?" Colonel O'Neill seemed cautious about taking on the mission. "It only would make sense that if the Tok'ra have heard about it, the Goa'uld have too and the last thing we want is to walk into trouble."

Sam shook her head and clutched her remote in her suddenly sweaty palm. This was the selling point. If the colonel and General Hammond deemed it too dangerous, there would be no mission. And she firmly believed that this would present them with a great opportunity to gain technology they so badly needed in their fight against the Goa'uld.

"I agree sir. Since I had the very same misgivings that you did when I first made the discovery, I looked for anything that seemed out of the ordinary."

She'd learned from the colonel to expect the unexpected, and found his outside-of-the-box style of attacking a problem to be extremely fascinating, and one she tried to emulate.

"And? Therefore?" Jack's eyebrows rose to his hairline as his hands urged her to continue.

"According to the Tok'ra intel, this planet is ruled by a minor Goa'uld, but they're not sure who it is. And I didn't find any overt signs of occupation, especially around the crash site. If a Goa'uld is there, they're not showing themselves."

"Or they just haven't found it yet," Daniel sounded confident in his supposition. "Maybe for once all our hard work is paying off. I say we go."

"I too believe it to be an acceptable risk," Teal'c stated calmly. "The Goa'uld do not practice subterfuge as a rule. If the one who controls this world had discovered such a find, he would immediately broadcast it to the other System Lords in order to establish ownership; if none have done so thus far, it is highly likely that it is only because they are unable to do so."

Sam waited, she knew going after this prize was a calculated risk and the colonel would be a hard sell.

"You've convinced me." Jack shrugged but still looked worried. "I guess," he added with a frown.

That frown tempered her satisfaction of winning her argument, if the colonel was worried she should be also. As his 2IC and as his friend, his concerns on the safety of SG-1 were never far off base. And she knew that the general could read Colonel O'Neill as well, if not better than her. This could still be a loss.

General Hammond turned his attention to the colonel. "Jack, you don't look entirely convinced, what's on your mind?"

"Nothing I can put my finger on, sir. Just a bad feeling." He fingered the file in front of him, tracing the edges of it with one long elegant finger. Mesmerized by the sight, Sam pulled her attention back to her presentation with an effort. How could a man like that, all macho soldier, have such beautifully expressive hands?

Her mind now safely back on her job, she held her breath as she watched Hammond's face. His eyes rested for a moment on each member of her team, before tapping the folder resting in front of him. "Your mission is a go, SG-1. You can ship out this afternoon at," he glanced at his watch, "1300 hours. That will give you about two hours to get ready."

"We can do it, sir." Jack shot a significant look Daniels' way. "Right, Daniel?"

"What? Oh, yeah, of course," Daniel replied as he hurriedly began writing on his pad of paper.

"I shall take my leave then," Teal'c inclined his head. "As I have much to prepare."

Sam couldn't keep the grin of triumph off her face as she clicked off the television and retrieved her video cassette. Behind her, she heard the sound of chairs being pushed back from the table and when she turned, she discovered the colonel walking toward her. As she watched, Daniel all but ran out the door, probably on his way to his office. She hadn't seen Teal'c leave, but considering that he moved like a panther, she shouldn't have been surprised.

"Good presentation, Carter."

"Thank you, sir." She grinned at the compliment. He could always make her feel warm with pride at a job well done.

"If we're to keep to our schedule, we'll have to hustle. See you in the gate room in a couple of hours. And keep in mind we'll have quite a hike before we get to your space wreck, so pack accordingly."

"You can count on me, sir."

"I know I can, Carter. It's Daniel I'm worried about. Knowing him, he'll try to stuff thirty pounds of books in his backpack."

Sam gathered her notes and files into her arms and turned to leave. "If you want, I'll look in on him before I suit up in the locker room, sir."

What she really wanted to do was to get him to spill just what was bothering him about this mission; they'd gone in with worse intel in the past. So why was he so antsy about this one?

"That would be a plus, Carter and save me from hearing him bellyache about how heavy his pack is after he'd been walking for about a mile in the hot sun."

He looked at his watch and tapped the crystal. "Well, I'm off to pack some extra ammo and C-4 in my backpack." He grinned at her as she realized that his statement had startled her, his words so close to her own thoughts. "You can never have enough C-4."

"I'd heard that, sir," Sam returned his grin as her mind busily calculated the additional ordinance she could stuff into her pack.

XOX

Jack was the first to the gate room, with Teal'c a close second. As usual, Daniel was still in the locker room. He nodded as Teal'c strode to the edge of the ramp and stood there, staring at the quiet Stargate.

Jack checked his vest for the extra clips of ammo he'd stashed there. Although the reports said their mission should be short and quiet for some reason he felt like it might come in handy, along with the extra bricks of C-4 he'd placed in another pocket. He liked to call it his ounce of prevention, and if that ounce weighed a bit more than that, well, it would be worth carrying it around if he needed it. And if he didn't, well, he'd still rather have it than not.

Captain Carter appeared; her blue eyes bright with anticipation at the coming mission. She had a day of poking around in the dirt to look forward to, along with any stray bits of alien technology they might unearth from the crash site. He so loved to watch her putter about scientifically.

"Carter," Jack acknowledged her with a nod.

"Sir."

"I hope you packed something besides your gadgets," Jack motioned toward her backpack.

Her reply was a nod and a terse smile as she patted the weapon she clutched in her hands.

"No surprises this time, I hope."

"No, sir. I checked the readings and we won't even come close to the coronasphere of our sun."

Jack nodded but couldn't help but wonder if she knew what she was talking about. Then he chided himself. _'Come on, Jack. This is Carter we're talking about. A woman who is way smarter than you'll ever be.' _

"Daniel," Jack's voice was deceptively soft, but somehow he was able to make that one word into a question as he watched Daniel arrive in the gate room, out of breath from the run from the locker room.

"Jack," Daniel answered cautiously, as if he suspected a trap hidden within the seemingly innocent greeting.

"It's about time you showed up," Jack watched Daniel struggle to put on his backpack.

"I still don't understand why I have to pack extra ammunition. I had to leave out some of my texts, ones that I might need once we find that crash site."

"If you need them we'll just dial the gate," Jack said firmly. "But in the meantime, if I find out you hid it in your locker after I left . . ." he left the threat unsaid.

"Don't worry, it's still here," Daniel pointed to the bulging pack on his back, and then muttered to himself. "Though I think it's a waste of valuable space."

"I heard that," Jack called out.

The gate began to rotate noisily. "Chevron one, encoded."

XOX

"Chevron six, encoded."

General George Hammond watched as his premiere team gathered in the gate room. Dr. Jackson had replaced the green scarf with a floppy-brimmed boonie hat and appeared to be having some trouble with his backpack. Jack stood watching as the gate rotated and chevrons locked into place. He appeared to be tense, but eager to go. Teal'c, well, even after two years, the man was hard to read.

"Chevron seven, locked," chanted Sergeant Walters as a plume of blue exploded from theorifice and then settled back to reside inside the confines of the ring of naquadah.

George bent over to speak directly into the microphone, "SG-1, you have a go. Godspeed, people." He watched somberly as Jack sketched a sloppy salute and then followed his team through the gate.

_'And god help us all if I'm sending you into a bad situation just to satisfy the bean counters at the Pentagon.'_

tbc. . .


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Jack stepped through the gate and immediately went on full alert; his feeling of impending disaster still dogged him as he scanned the area. Carter worked on checking the DHD as Teal'c maintained a vigil over her. Daniel shrugged out of his backpack as he walked toward them.

"Now this is more like it," Jack grinned to hide his own doubts; he didn't want the team distracted by an old colonel's imaginings. The last mission had been way beyond bizarre and calculating the odds that this would be anything other than a milk run would have given even Thor a throbbing headache, and he had one of those superduper whiz-bang Asgard computers to do his thinking.

He surveyed the small clearing around the Stargate, surrounded on all sides by trees, lots of trees, thick with bushes that could hide a battalion. Jack had yet to see a problem – even a sign of a problem – since their arrival; but then again he hadn't seen anything that could allay his concern either.

Daniel turned and raised his eyebrows in a question.

"Trees," Jack kept his answer short, refusing to be distracted by Daniel, as he continued to do his own personal recon of the immediate area. All that cover was a huge honkin' concern and the hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention.

"Yes . . ." Daniel looked confused and the linguist who was fluent in so many languages managed to make that one word into a question.

"Or would you prefer the butt-end of a Titan missile?"

"Oh," Daniel's face cleared as he realized what Jack was referring to. "I get your point. And yes, trees are a distinct improvement."

"From what I can tell, it works, sir," Carter called from the DHD.

"So far we're batting a thousand then," Jack commented as he walked down the steps to stand next to Daniel. The archeologist worked intently on rearranging the contents of his bulging pack while Jack keyed his radio. "Sierra Golf one-niner to Hammond, come in."

"This is Hammond."

"Have arrived safely and Carter says the DHD will get us back home. Next contact will be . . ." he consulted his watch, "In twenty-four-hours; I say again, next contact in twenty-four hours."

"Roger that, Sierra Golf one-niner, we'll expect your next radio contact in twenty-four hours. Hammond, out."

Seconds later, the gate winked out and Jack strained to hear all he could in the sudden silence before he turned to Carter. "Which way to your interesting-looking wreck, Carter?"

She pursed her lips and shaded her eyes as she glanced around. "According to the UAV, they should be about five klicks . . ." she paused and then pointed to her right toward a break in the forest, "That way, sir."

His eyes followed the line of her finger so that he felt rather than saw the blast that felled Daniel. Its delayed roar arrived as his friend's body slammed into him, burned flesh seared his nostrils as he fell under the limp weight, and the contents of the grounded backpack scattered about their owner. Automatically his arms encircled Daniel, to cushion him, to protect him.

Daniel's blue eyes stared sightlessly ahead, wide with surprise and shock. His lips were slightly parted as if to protest the unexpected attack on his person – in no fewer than fifty words of five syllables each and in twenty different languages. So real was this impression that only with a supreme effort of will could Jack yank his attention away from his friend's unnaturally quiescent face.

Another hollow roar jerked his attention away from the smoking hole in Daniel's chest just in time to see that Teal'c had been the source of the second energy discharge. His muscular body slightly crouched to spring, his activated staff weapon swung toward the dark shapes that had been bushes between the tightly packed trees at the edge of the small clearing.

Three blazing lances of fire met and enveloped his friend, his back arched and his cry of pain drowned by the shouts of their attackers, and the sizzle of zats and the ka-whump of staff weapons.

Jack knew that Daniel was dead, that Teal'c probably was too and in the few seconds that he'd been sprawled across the ground stunned at the swift change of fortune at least two zat discharges had miraculously missed him. Never before had Jack been so grateful that there were few Jaffa masters like Bra'tac, none of the warriors under his tutelage would have survived to be such bad shots.

Flogging his brain into action Jack assessed the opposition – Jaffa – lots of Jaffa and all firing at once. And amid thoughts of self-recrimination – they'd obviously walked into an ambush, one that he hadn't seen – he searched for the rest of his team.

"Colonel!"

Ruthlessly, he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind; it was time to concentrate on what he could do rather than what he hadn't. Carter's shout showed him that she had used the DHD as shelter and answered the horrific weapons fire with her zat. Blue bolts flew as fast as it could discharge, but it was clear that the Jaffa were willing to brave her less than lethal fire. Sheer numbers would soon overwhelm her.

Automatically he checked his own situation and found no warriors close by. Having fallen to the ground must have painted him as no threat. If he turned and ran, he could make the trees before any of them could stop him. But he was a man that would never think such a thing except in the course of listing options. This one was a big honkin' non.

Jack tried not to acknowledge what was happening to Teal'c. A crowd of Jaffa crowded around the still-moving man, jeering and tormenting his death throes with jabs of their staff weapons. Not being able to do anything for his warrior brother, Jack rolled to his feet, pulling his 9-mil as he leaned into his first step toward Carter and her soon-to-be hopeless position.

His weapon barked as his boot hit the ground and the Jaffa nearest to his goal dropped like a stone; another at his next step, and the next. His deadly use of force caused the Jaffa vultures to pull back a step and allowed him to reach his 2IC.

The Jaffa were no longer content to go hand-to-hand and now employed staff blasts, forcing Carter to abandon her position. She rose from her crouch just as he arrived. Almost too late, he saw a staff zero in on her. Jack reached out and embraced her, swinging her around. Their eyes met just as the blast struck him in the back.

He read the dismay in her bright blue eyes as he could feel the hot blood rising up in his throat. Somehow all had become silent, only he and she existed. In slow motion, her expression changed as her sensual mouth formed an 'O'. Her grip on him tightened and he responded in kind.

Being a man of war all his life he realized that she too had been struck a fatal blow. They were just two of a kind, too stubborn to fall down dead to convenience any enemy. So much passed between them in the endless seconds as identical wounds stole their last breaths.

Unable to share that last breath with the woman he knew he loved, the only thing Jack could do was to imagine that their lips met, sealed with each other's blood in a bond eternal. Death would not be the end of this thing that existed between them. Darkness overtook him, but she was still there as they both finally fell.

XOX

Ever watchful, Teal'c kept one eye on the tree line and one on O'Neill as he organized SG-1 to march out. The sudden flash of light that blew DanielJackson into his warrior brother's arms seemed surreal, no warning, no sign; except that O'Neill had exuded the type of worry only another warrior could recognize.

Teal'c had long ago recognized that his leader was the closest to the fabled warrior seers of Jaffa legend. The man could feel impending danger. He too had packed extra equipment based on his observation of O'Neill. Whereas his friend had packed weapons, he had packed food and medical supplies. Survival was virtually assured through O'Neill's leadership, but none would survive unscathed.

At last, the sound told him from where the blast had come and from whom. Swiftly, elegantly, his fingers sure on the well-known alien metal of his staff weapon, it was activated and aimed in one sure move. With a stab of thought the Jaffa that had struck at his companions died. And at the nearly the same instant he realized that this Jaffa was one of many.

The whole of the clearing was ringed in Jaffa, both, Horus and Serpent Guards joined in a common task. Only a Goa'uld of extraordinary strength and influence could muster such diverse numbers.

Involuntarily he roared in pain, his symbiote squealed within. Hot knives tore him asunder from all sides. Before his widened eyes, the clear mint-colored sky of this world dimmed to not quite dark, as nearly all sensation of pain and connection with his body disappeared.

So sudden was this dislocation that he blinked his eyes more than once before he recognized that he lay in the dirt. As he watched from his supine position, O'Neill exploded from the ground leaving behind DanielJackson. He grieved for he knew that one would not leave the other if they both lived, not without some sign or gesture between them.

Teal'c tried mightily to help, to rise, to render aid. His wishes and desires were as smoke in the face of a storm. So he was forced to watch as his brother of the soul killed with ease those that sought to keep him from the last of SG-1. He knew that his brother had sure knowledge that he lay dying and powerless, only able to witness O'Neill's desperate struggle to salvage what he could.

The next moments came in fleeting flashes seen though the shifting legs of the cowardly Jaffa that had ambushed them all. Teal'c felt not the kicks and jabs from them as they surrounded him. Their spoken insults were like gnats that could be ignored. His spirit ached to provide support, but inwardly felt a smug satisfaction as O'Neill 'kicked ass.'

His admiration swelled but was soon overtaken by a flood of sorrow as one of the wild shots from the unnerved Jaffa found his brother's unprotected back. He had not been there to stop the deadly bolt of energy, and at that, he felt an impotent anger; one he could not even voice to taunt his tight circle of tormentors.

MajorCarter . . . Samantha, saved by O'Neill's selfless act held her colonel upright, only to be slammed into a tight embrace as she was struck in identical kind. The horror of the scene washed away. Teal'c only saw two people who loved one another embraced in death. He could feel the words flow between them, the regret of never having experienced the closeness that they now mimicked.

He imagined he saw the light of their souls pour forth and join, to ascend as one. He wished it so; though he knew it probably had more to do with the last kick to his head. For he knew that where there were Jaffa, there were Goa'uld – and the Goa'uld never traveled far without a sarcophagus.

SG-1 may have died before his eyes. But they would not remain so long.

Death was stealing up on him, the world became very small, and he could see little and feel nothing. His whole universe became just one desire – to live. That one goal could prove the salvation of his friends. For nothing would stand between him and their recovery.

'_I must live. I. Must. Live.'_

Junior rolled frantically, sealed within the dying flesh of his nursery. Similar thoughts of survival flashed across his egotistical mind, but for very, very different reasons. He was a living god and gods do not die.

XOX

Silence – and it seemed all the more so compared to the din of the previous short-lived battle. The members of SG-1 lay where they had fallen, arms splayed in unnaturally still poses. Smoke drifted from charred bits of flesh and clothing.

Amongst this macabre scene strutted the Jaffa who had been its cause – and the Goa'uld who had ordered it. Her red shoulder-length hair sparkled as the setting sun shone its final shaft of light over the distant hills before it too died, sinking below the horizon.

Clad in shimmering form-fitting gold robes like the queen that she was, Hathor progressed among the dead, fastidiously avoiding contact with them. Her eyes flashed golden and she smiled, her perfect teeth pearl-white between ruby-red lips. She yearned for the comfort to be found within her chambers onboard her Ha'tak, but had deemed it necessary to inspect the results of her successful subterfuge.

Pausing to view their bodies, Hathor studied the faces of the three dead Tau'ri. The body of her love lay alone, abandoned by his so-called friend. He had sired her murdered children and might still prove worthy to be her mate. And the male and female who had dared defy her; they also would serve her needs.

"Take all but the Shol'va to the sarcophagus, and see that the Tau'ri do not remember what has occurred here," she ordered her Jaffa in a loud regal voice.

Hathor sighed with pleasure as she observed the smooth ripple of muscle in her personal slaves as the Tau'ri were gathered up to be resurrected. Only to herself did she declare, "To Us will they depart all of their knowledge."

**The End**


End file.
